


When She's Right

by rayvanfox



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, OT3, arthur gets everything he wants, where it's a V not a triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Love and marriage have long been two separate things. It was Arthur who insisted they be one in his case, and I certainly applaud him for that.”<br/>“As do I, but...” Merlin shook his head, baffled by the turn the conversation had taken.<br/>“There is nothing more healthy for a kingdom than for its king to love and trust his queen.”<br/>“And,” Merlin interrupted, “For his queen to be worthy of that love and trust.”<br/>“Absolutely,” she replied with a gracious nod of thanks. “But that doesn’t mean she has to be the only person he loves. That is too rare a thing for most mortal men to accomplish, and I for one am not naive enough to think Arthur is anything but mortal.”</p><p>Or, the one where Gwen does all the heavy lifting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno. I watched the whole 5 seasons in one month, when things were hard, and this came out.  
> I fell so hard for Merlin because his hidden magic situation is such a metaphor for being closeted.
> 
> This story is set after Arthur becomes king and marries Gwen, and before Mordred comes back.  
> So, probably between S4 and S5.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Gwen said with a sweet smile.

Arthur looked offended as he glanced over his shoulder at Merlin, then back at Gwen. “It was _my_ idea, Gwen. Give me _some_ credit.”

Gwen just looked at Arthur with fond exasperation. They’d been married long enough that this wasn’t the first time they’d had this exchange, but every time, it made Merlin blush.

“At your service, milady,” he said softly, grinning. She really was worth all of the bouquets and picnics and candlelit dinners, baths, and bedtimes Arthur made Merlin set up for her. It was the best perk of his job, in Merlin’s mind. That and spending every day of his life with Arthur.

But dragon’s teeth, it was loads easier to deal with Arthur when he was happy in love. Luckily Gwen was exceedingly good at making him happy, and that just ended up making Merlin happy. It really was the best situation possible.

Except of course, Merlin was sleeping alone.

Gwen threw her arms around Arthur’s neck and smiled adoringly at him, which was all he needed to unbend. She shot a quick look over his shoulder at Merlin, who smirked back at her. They both knew how easy it was to appease the king. “I’ll just go change out of my dress so you can lay me down in this flower petal-covered bed. Won’t be a moment,” she murmured, her mouth a bare half inch from Arthur’s ear.

“Why leave for that? It can’t be that difficult to undress you, can it?”

Gwen pulled back to look Arthur in the face, her eyes narrowed playfully. “No...? But that’s why I employ a maid, you know.” She glance over at Merlin, her mouth open — probably to send him off to fetch the new maid. It was harder to find and keep a good lady’s companion for Gwen than the Holy Grail.

“Oh, just have Merlin to do it.”

Merlin blinked. _Did Arthur really just say that?_ He looked to Gwen who had the same expression on her face, and shrugged. Arthur was busying himself with removing his sword belt, so Merlin stepped up to Gwen, eyes downcast respectfully, and said, “Just the brocade bodice and the skirts, milady. I’ll leave the shift alone.”

“Well, obviously,” Arthur said as he — wonder of wonders — attempted to take off his boots by himself. “I can handle _that._ ”

“You don’t mind?” Gwen whispered over her shoulder as Merlin started to unlace her.

“Of course not,” Merlin said, possibly a little too vehemently. His fingers worked quickly so she wouldn’t think he was revelling in the touch. “That is, as long as you don’t, milady.”

“Gwen, please,” she said quickly. “It’s just us, and we’re friends, after all...” She heaved a deep sigh as soon as the bodice was loose enough. “And of course I don’t mind.” The smile she gave him as he began to untie her heavy skirts was sweet, but tinged with sadness.

Merlin frowned as he finished up, hoping he hadn’t offended. Helping her step out of her skirts and folding them neatly took but a moment, yet when he looked over to help Arthur, the king was already shirtless and barefoot. And his eyes were riveted to Gwen’s diaphanous shift, hungrily searching for the curvaceous form underneath. It was definitely time for Merlin to leave.

“Is there anything else, sire?”

“Hm?” Arthur didn’t take his eyes off Gwen as he enfolded her in his arms. “No, Merlin. Leave us.”

“Of course. Have a good night.” And with that, Merlin turned on his heel and headed directly for the chamber door.

“We will, Merlin. Thank you again.” Gwen’s voice held a giggle and Merlin raised his shoulder to his ear, knowing Arthur was kissing Gwen’s neck at that very moment.

He reached the door and risked a glance back, just in time to see the lovebirds tumble onto the bed in a cloud of meadowsweet petals and laughter. He smiled to himself as he headed to his narrow cot for the night. Could he really be faulted for thinking about a far more inviting bed as he fell asleep?

Arthur had sussed it right — Merlin was a fine choice to undress Gwen because it wasn’t her that Merlin wanted, it was what she had. Not the crown, or the formality of a public relationship, just the man himself. Merlin got him during the day, and Gwen got him at night. And most of the time, even at the Summer Solstice, Merlin was sure that Gwen had the better end of the deal.

But by a trick of fate or of personality, Merlin was virtually incapable of feeling jealous of Gwen. Perhaps it was because they’d been friends since before Arthur took a liking to her, and there was no one so honest and trustworthy that Merlin would feel comfortable with Arthur giving himself to. Besides, Merlin had always had a soft spot for Gwen’s sincere but somewhat insecure smile. Not to mention the fact that they had spent many hours commiserating as servants to the king’s charges. Of everyone at Camelot, Gwen was the least taken in by Arthur’s, well, his everything.

Except his true and sincere love. It was charming as anything, but not because it was trying to be. And thankfully, Gwen knew the value of it. Merlin understood too, of course, but he was only privy to small catches of it, unguarded moments when Arthur was tired or hurt — or distracted. Or those brief, fraught moments in peril when he treated Merlin as one of his brother-knights. No, it was more than that — as an extension of himself.

If only Arthur could understand that his own right hand wielded magic for the good of his people, for Albion, and for Arthur himself...

But that line of thinking would get Merlin nowhere — certainly not to sleep.

Instead, he concentrated on imagining the feel of satin and cotton and tiny flower petals, and possibly the warm weight of strong, tanned limbs as well. Sleep came almost as quickly as Merlin did.

—

“Thank you, Merlin. I’ll take breakfast in my chambers this morning, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, milady.”

“Hang on, _I_ mind. Where are you going?” Arthur was slipping on a blousy red shirt, one of those that he wore casually and never laced up in front. Merlin couldn’t tell if Gwen’s sigh was from what her husband had said, or the fact that he’d covered his torso so soon after getting out of bed. Merlin was focused on the latter. It was such a shame, really.

“I have things to do, and I need to concentrate on them, instead of your grumpy chatter as you pore over your reports.” Gwen spoke with a teasing lilt to her voice, but she was right about Arthur’s habit of muttering to himself — or at Merlin — over breakfast.

“All right,” Arthur said, both chastened and indulgent. “But don’t keep Merlin too long. I have need of him, you know.”

“Oh, I know, _sire,_ ” she said the last word with such cheek, Merlin had to stifle a laugh. “And I’m sure that new maid of mine can manage to earn her keep. I’ll send him back to you soon.”

“Good, because he’s got loads of work to do, don’t you, Merlin?”

Merlin had watched this exchange with Gwen’s breakfast tray in hand, waiting for her to gather her dressing gown around her and stand. At Arthur’s question he looked quizzically over and shook his head slightly. “No? I don’t think so.”

“Make my bed, clean my room, wash the breakfast dishes, shine my armor, air my ceremonial robes for tomorrow evening’s guest, sharpen my sword and oil the scabbard and belt...”

“Sword, scabbard, armor and robes are all done, sire. The room is mostly clean except the clothes you threw off of the bed last night. The scullery maid does both of your dishes, so I just have to take them to the kitchen and then make your bed.” Merlin smiled at Arthur, which, as usual, made Arthur frown.

“When did you have time to... Never mind. I need you anyway, so come back quickly.” He huffed, picked up the reports he’d already read, and stared at them as if he was attempting to memorize the words.

Gwen rolled her eyes fondly and kissed Arthur’s temple before heading out the door, Merlin trailing in her wake.

On their way down the hall, she said, “I hope you got _some_ sleep last night, and didn’t stay up doing chores forever.”

Merlin swallowed, trying to not look guilty. He’d found a tiny cupboard in the armory that he could lock shut, and turned it into his maintenance room where he could set spells to polish and oil and clean Arthur’s kit without anyone coming across the sorcery. It had saved him so much time already, he’d thought about expanding to a small laundry room as well. It was a risk that would make Gaius fume, but it was the only way to keep up — and keep Arthur on his good side.

“I managed to get a few hours, milady. Don’t worry about me.”

“I do, though,” she said as they reached her chambers. She waited until they were inside and the door was closed before adding. “I fear there’s something not right, and I’d like to help remedy it, if possible.”

Biting his lip in worry, Merlin took his time setting down the tray, buying himself a few seconds to ponder what she could mean. “Everything’s fine, Gwen. No need to trouble yourself.”

“But Merlin. I know you,” Gwen said with a sad smile as she sat down to her meal.  “You can’t lie to save your life, but you’ve been doing it daily for, dare I say years? It took me a while to figure it out, but now I’m sure.” Merlin’s heart leapt painfully in his chest, but she continued. “There’s something deep inside you that you are afraid to share with Arthur. I understand, he doesn’t seem the type to be open-minded about it, but you know honesty is the best policy.” She paused and Merlin took a breath for the first time since she’d sat down.

Had his powers finally been found out? Gwen was so much more perceptive than Arthur, he should have known it was only a matter of time, being daily in her presence, before she started to catch the unguarded moments, the tiny bursts of magic he used to help ease the day along — to make their life run more smoothly. But what was he to say to _this?_

_Tell Arthur?_ He’d longed to do that for so much of their life together, that he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to just come out with it and no longer have that secret between them. At a complete loss, Merlin had to clear his throat to speak.  “Gwen, I—”

“No, let me finish. I want to help. I want you to feel like I’m on your side in this, and that you can count on me to be supportive and listen — even to come up with options to help Arthur see sense.”

“But you don’t have any reason to want to help me. It’s forbidden, and as queen, you can’t—”

“I can help sway thinking that I know to be unjust. Besides, the king can rule as he pleases, you of anyone must know that.”

“But his father — Arthur isn’t ready to allow—”

“His father wouldn’t care, now that Arthur’s married. Uther never understood love for love’s sake, I don’t think. But Arthur...”

“What?” Merlin sank down onto the edge of the table near Gwen’s tray, his feet no longer steady. “ _What_ about love?”

“Love and marriage have long been two separate things. It was Arthur who insisted they be one in his case, and I certainly applaud him for that.”

“As do I, but...” Merlin shook his head, baffled by the turn the conversation had taken.

“There is nothing more healthy for a kingdom than for its king to love and trust his queen.”

“And,” Merlin interrupted, “For his queen to be worthy of that love and trust.”

“Absolutely,” she replied with a gracious nod of thanks. “But that doesn’t mean she has to be the _only_ person he loves. That is too rare a thing for most mortal men to accomplish, and I for one am not naive enough to think Arthur is anything but mortal.”

“I... don’t follow.” Merlin’s heart had started to ache at the mention of Arthur loving another, and he tried to swallow without looking as though it pained him. “Why are we talking about who Arthur loves?”

Gwen set her cup down with an exasperated huff. “Are you really going to play innocent with me? Merlin...”

“I don’t—”

“You can’t deny it. I’m not blind.” Her voice had gone sharp, but she took a deep breath and continued softly. “You care for him a great deal. I can see it. I _know_ what that feels like. And you are his most trusted servant, knights of the round table included. No one else even comes close.”

“You do. You are his wife.” Merlin was grasping onto what truths he could name because every other one felt like a dagger’s edge to his throat.

“Yes. And you are his Merlin. He’s stopped using the word servant in reference to you, because it doesn’t fit.”

“Stop. Please, Gwen.”

“Stop what? I’m telling you the truth.”

Merlin stood up and walked away from the table, pressing his back to a pillar for support. “Stop making my job harder than it already is. I’m the king’s servant. I do everything in my prodigious power to keep him safe and happy. Which he is, _with you._ ”

“ _And you._ I’d hate to think what would happen to him if you left us.”

That was too much to think on. He stepped forward involuntarily, his voice harsher than he’d meant it to be. “I will _never_ leave him. Don’t you ever think that I could.”

“I would never think that,” Gwen said with a small, sad smile. “Because I know you love him.”

The tears that had been welling up in Merlin’s eyes spilled over at that. He sobbed, once, then covered his mouth with both hands and turned away. It took embarrassingly long to collect himself. So long that Gwen stood and came towards him, her gentle hand on his shoulder a comfort and a weight he could not bear.

“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. This concerns you, not me, and I have no right to push anything on you that you might not be ready for. I just can't stand to watch things go along as they are. If only you would—”

“Would what, Gwen? I'm still just his servant. _I_ can't plead my case.” The look in Gwen's eye made Merlin quickly add, “And don't you do it either. Promise me you won't mention any of this to Arthur.”

She hesitated, and Merlin caught hold of her hand, his eyes pleading, earnest. She pressed her lips tightly together and nodded to acquiesce. "I won't tell him what we talked about, or what of your feelings I know to be true. But know this: I love Arthur with all my heart, and I want nothing but happiness for him. If he could find that with you..." She shook her head, lips pressed tightly together, unable or unwilling to go on.

Merlin just stared at her for half a minute. Her words made grammatical sense, but Merlin was unable to process them. What she seemed to be proposing was so far from anything Merlin had believed could happen, that trying to imagine it now gave him a headache. “Milady, I'm sorry, but I think you're mistaken.”

She gave him a look of sheer disappointment, and said, “I don't think I am. Men don't know how to guard their hearts, and they forget how much of them are on display when they think no one is looking.”

A sharp stab to his chest had Merlin wondering if Gwen really did know about the magic too, and this was a hint about that. Or if tomorrow they’d have another little talk like this one. He almost mumbled a quick spell to avert the unpleasantness before he caught himself.

Gwen squeezed his shoulder and smiled at his apparent bafflement. “All right. I’ll let it go for now. He wants you with him now anyway, and I hate to keep anything from him that makes him happy.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at her. Surely this was over the top. Arthur didn’t like Merlin _that_ much. Just because Merlin had grown to love him, didn’t mean he held such feelings in his heart for Merlin — or anyone, save Gwen. This was all madness. Maybe Merlin should have searched the room for enchantments of some sort.

But now it was too late. He was dismissed, and Arthur was waiting. The king was always impatient to get onto the training green, and he’d grouse for _so long_ about Merlin not being quick to get him in his armor. The thing was, that was the one time of day they always had alone to be physically close to one another, and Merlin wouldn’t rush through it, even if it meant the stocks.

—

“You took your time... Everything all right? ” Arthur was leaning against the wall, looking out his window when Merlin entered. His voice was strangely cautious and his posture was somehow stiff.

“Yes. Gwen wanted” — how could he put this without inviting more questions — “to consult me about something.”

Arthur turned idly to watch Merlin as he fidgeted with the bedclothes, haphazardly making the bed up, as per usual. “What?”

_So much for no questions._ “Hm? What was that?” It was a marvel how much Merlin could avoid, pretending he was a flighty fool.

“What did she want to consult with _you_ for?” Arthur sounded more amused than suspicious, but this still could go poorly.

“Ah...” Merlin considered knocking his head against the bedpost, just for a distraction. He thought better of it just in time. “The new maid.”

“What could you possibly have to say about her, other than her name?” Arthur absentmindedly started to fluff Gwen’s pillow as Merlin finished straightening the bed. “What’s her name, by the way?”

_Shit_. What _was_ her name? “Erm... Eowyn, I think. Gwen wanted to know if I thought she was worth holding onto. I said I’d have to keep an eye out and let her know.” Merlin enjoyed making this sound as though he was important, but of course now he’d have to tell Gwen or his lie would be discovered.

“Hm. All right. But don’t keep such a close eye that you aren’t getting your own work done.”

“Have no fear, sire,” Merlin said with a smile.

“Why, isn’t she pretty? I thought you liked them dark-haired.” Arthur nudged Merlin’s shoulder as they headed to the wardrobe, where his armor was already laid out.

Merlin scoffed, taken off guard by Arthur’s perception. “What, like Morgana?” _More like Freya. And Lancelot._ And Gwaine, if he was being honest with himself. “No thanks.” Merlin pressed his lips tightly together as he held open the padded jacket Arthur wore under his chain mail.

“You don’t want to find a nice girl and settle down, have a passel of children and retire to Ealdor?” Arthur’s voice wasn’t much above a suggestive murmur as he slid his arms into the jacket and let Merlin tie it closed.

Merlin shook his head, annoyed. “I will serve you until death, my lord. I’d never dream of leaving Camelot while you’re alive.”

“Yes, but who knows how long that will be? We aren’t likely to find true peace in my lifetime, even if I strive for it every day of my reign.”

“Don’t, sire. You’re healthy and happy and we are in good stead with our neighbouring kingdoms.” Merlin had to stop staring at Arthur’s jaw, so he turned away to grab the mail shirt. “We’re doing fine as we are, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.” Arthur said, throwing an arm over Merlin’s back before he could turn around with the shirt. “I just want you to be as happy as I am.”

“Well, setting me up with a lady’s maid is not the way to achieve that,” Merlin said with more bite in his voice than he’d meant.

Arthur chuckled, his arm still around Merlin. “And what is, my friend? I’d be happy to do it, if only you told me how.”

Merlin let his eyes slide shut and savoured the feel of Arthur’s body pressed against his. The warmth and strength, the solid muscle and bone, all so familiar and yet somehow miraculous. That Merlin was trusted to be this close to the king...

The king who was only Arthur, after all. _His_ Arthur — the one he’d taken care of for years and years, since they were no more than children. The one true friend he had in the world apart from Gaius. And the one person he could never tell about who he really was.

_Let there be magic in Camelot._ That was what Merlin wanted — that was what would make him the happiest man in the kingdom. Well, that and having Arthur fall in love with him — which wouldn’t ever happen without a spell that Merlin could never in his life cast. Unless Gwen’s nonsense earlier wasn’t...

_No._ Thinking like that would only lead to heartbreak. _Better to think of what you have, Merlin._ Something possible, comfortable. Safe.

“This.” Merlin brushed his fingers over the hand hanging around his neck, then looked down at the floor, his ears flushing hot. Merlin treasured their closeness, but of course he’d gone about explaining it idiotically. And now he was at a loss as to how he could make his statement sound less awkward, so he just kept mum.

“My hand?” Arthur asked, guilelessly. Merlin looked up at him, and whatever was on his face made Arthur’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. His gaze landed everywhere but on Merlin’s face before he said, “My chain mail?” It came out jokingly, and Arthur let go of Merlin to take the mail shirt from him.

He held it out in front of himself, looking critically at it, then smirked at Merlin. “Wouldn’t fit. Think of something else that would make you happy, and I’ll give it to you, without hesitation.”

_You._ Merlin was so very tempted, but he wouldn’t. _He_ was not the person to try and make anything happen, no matter what Gwen seemed to think. Her playing matchmaker — or whatever she was aiming for, voyeur, perhaps — was bad, but it wasn’t nearly as offensive as Merlin foisting himself upon Arthur, and in his own chambers, no less. There was no worse sort of servant than one who would take advantage of the intimacy inherent in their job.

He at least had _some_ respect for his profession, even if it was sometimes in direct opposition to his vocation.

“A day off.” Merlin couldn’t miss the look of dismay that passed over Arthur’s features before adding, “For both of us. Maybe some time in the country...?”

“Did you want to visit your mother? I don’t have to accompany you...” Arthur trailed off as Merlin shook his head with a shy smile. “Hunting, then?”

“You know I hate hunting. Just a ride, maybe.”

“Gwen has been asking for that very same thing.” Arthur paused, looking closely at Merlin. “It’s all right if I invite her, isn’t it?”

_So much for being alone._ Merlin swallowed a sigh and gently took the mail shirt from Arthur. He found the hem, readying it to be pulled over his head. “Do as you wish, sire. I just thought a day to relax would be nice.”

“Well thought. Especially before all the pomp and ceremony tomorrow for Queen Annis.” Arthur moved away from Merlin to his desk. “Don’t just stand there, put my armor away, then run and tell the knights they’re on their own for training this morning. I’ll find us a nice path to ride and see if Gwen will join us.”

Merlin stood stock still for a moment, unable to process. “What, _now?_ ”

“Yes, now. You wanted a day off, you’ll have it.”

“Shouldn’t we—”

“ _Now,_ Merlin,” Arthur called over his shoulder. “Oh, and don’t forget to ask cook for a picnic. And grab a bottle of wine from the cellars.”

_So much for a day off,_ Merlin groused to himself as he hung up the mail shirt and headed out to the training green.

By the time he’d done all of Arthur’s bidding in preparation for their ride — including a run to the stables to secure their horses — Merlin was out of breath. He slowed to a walk as he approached Arthur’s chambers and tried to calm his heartbeat. Even with Gwen coming on this adventure, it was still just the three of them, and it had no actual _purpose,_ except to enjoy the beautiful day. _Together._

Merlin wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stand it. Most likely he and Arthur would fall into their snarky banter and make fun of each other the whole day, which was deeply pleasurable in its own way. The king didn’t speak like that to anyone except Merlin, after all.

He opened the door without knocking, assuming there’d be no need, and stopped dead in his tracks to see Arthur and Gwen holding each other and talking quietly. He was sitting at his desk and her arms were around his shoulders, cradling his head to her bosom.

“Why do you insist on things being right, my love? Why can’t they simply be true?” Her voice was soft and caring, everything about her gentle — and everything about him fragile, needing to be handled with care.

Merlin had never seen them this way, particularly Arthur. The king sniffed as if he’d been crying and hugged Gwen around the waist, saying, “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I still don’t know whether—”

He broke off — probably because Merlin had quietly stepped into his line of sight — and buried his face in Gwen’s dress.

“Is everything all right? I can call off the ride, get Gaius if he’s needed—”

“Everything’s fine, Merlin. Thank you.” Gwen’s mouth tried to smile, but her brow was too furrowed to let it. “It may be just a few minutes before we’re ready.”

“No problem,” Merlin said. Then he noticed Gwen was staring at him with her eyebrows raised, and he realised she was waiting for him to do something. He gestured vaguely toward the door, saying, “Shall I...?”

“Please. We’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

Merlin could only nod and leave them to it, though his chest felt tight and there was a sense of foreboding heavy around his heart.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it was the novelty of the two of them interacting as equals when there wasn’t a quest involved. Arthur conveniently forgot that Merlin was his servant a lot of the time, but usually it was when there was something much more pressing to think about and the two of them had to work together to conquer whatever obstacle was in their path. Today, however, was new for them — away from others’ eyes and without any sort of agenda, they could just relax and be themselves, which felt distinctly odd. That must have been what was throwing them off.

“This will be pleasant, won’t it?” Arthur said as they trotted through town. He was looking well, any trace of sadness gone, the white blousiness of his shirt showing off his tanned skin and blond hair. Kingly, even in common clothes. He smiled at Merlin, adding, “Just the two of us.”

“Well, _three_ of us, but yes,” Merlin said with a quick grin back at Gwen who was behind them a few paces.

“Ah, two, actually,” she said with an arch smile of her own. “I’ve got things to attend to elsewhere. I'm only accompanying you to the edge of town.”

“But...” Merlin looked between his king and queen, unsure of how he felt about this development. Gwen had been so strangely forceful this morning, and Arthur had a hint of that glimpsed fragility around his shoulders still, and... _If only there was a spell to ensure your loved ones’ happiness._ Without wrecking the balance of nature and tempting fate, of course. “There’s food and wine enough for three in the basket. Shall I put some aside for you to take?”

Gwen grinned broadly at him. “I’ll eat with Elyan in town. But thank you.”

“We’ll see you later on, Gwenevere. Get home safe.” Arthur blew her a kiss as she turned aside and headed off to the east.

“You too. I want you home before nightfall,” she called. “And Merlin? Don’t let him treat you like a servant today. It’s your day off!” She laughed and waved to them as she rode off.

Merlin grinned and waved back fondly.

“You’re not sad to see her go, are you? I can’t be that bad of company, I hope.” Arthur’s voice hung between teasing and worried, which wasn’t like him.

Frowning in concern for him, Merlin quickly said, “No, my lord. Of course not.”

“Then never mind the ‘my lords’ today. As Gwen said, it’s your day off.”

“I rarely spend those with you, do I?”

“No. You don’t. Careful, or I’ll begin to wonder if you don’t _like_ me all that much.” The teasing voice was back, but Arthur was specifically not looking at Merlin.

“You know I do, sire — _Arthur._ ” If teasing would ease the king’s tension, Merlin would do his best to help. “Even when you’re being a clotpole.”

“Am I being one now?” The question was muttered, as if Arthur didn’t really want to know the answer to it.

“You haven’t _done_ anything, yet,” Merlin said, wanting to be careful with his king — his friend — until this oddly insecure phase had passed.

Maybe it was the novelty of the two of them interacting as equals when there wasn’t a quest involved. Arthur conveniently forgot that Merlin was his servant a lot of the time, but usually it was when there was something much more pressing to think about and the two of them had to work together to conquer whatever obstacle was in their path. Today, however, was new for them — away from others’ eyes and without any sort of agenda, they could just relax and be themselves, which felt distinctly odd. That must have been what was throwing them off.

“Well, here. How about this?” Arthur turned towards a sunny clearing and hopped off his mount, then led both of their horses to the edge of the trees and held out his hand to help Merlin down.

“I can get off my own horse, thank you. I’m not that much of an oaf.”

“I didn’t say you were, I—”

“Not today you haven’t.”

“All right. Come on. I’m trying to be nice. If you’d prefer me not to, that’s fine. You can carry your own lunch.” Arthur sounded surprisingly good-humoured given his words, and even as he spoke he moved to the back of Merlin’s horse to unbuckle the picnicking gear.

Merlin hopped down to help, saying, “I can do that.”

“You can, but you won’t. Day off, remember?” Arthur gave him a charming smile — one that seemed to be utterly sincere — and Merlin blinked, his throat dry.

“Ah, right. Well, thanks. I’ll just...” He took the blanket from Arthur’s hands and waved towards the closest patch of sun. Arthur hummed in approval, making Merlin’s ears flush hot. Never had Arthur had a picnic with a young lady where Merlin hadn't done all the work, and now this.

—-

Most of the way through a bottle of wine, and only a short way into their meal, Merlin couldn’t stop giggling at Arthur. He was stretched out on his back watching the clouds drift by, and he was propounding the absurd belief that his life was hard, and he’d needed this day of rest more than Merlin, even.

“You have no idea what I do in a given day, do you?”

Arthur turned his head to look at Merlin from under low eyelids. The sunlight on his lashes and lips was obscenely beautiful, and Merlin had to hold his breath to keep from sighing. “Of course I do. I’m the one that gives you the orders to _do_ all those things.”

“And then there are all the chores which you don’t order me to do, but that need doing nonetheless, and whatever Gaius requires of me, and _then_ there’s keeping you clothed and bathed and fed. _And_ out of trouble.”

“I can get myself out of trouble thank you very much.”

Merlin laughed outright. “Can _not!_ ” If Arthur had any idea how many times Merlin had saved his life with magic, he would be — well, he’d be appalled. “But I do what I can to keep you from getting _into_ it in the first place.”

“By jumping in yourself, clearly. Don’t deny it!” And quick as thought, Arthur had rolled over and was pinning Merlin to the ground with his arms. For once he wasn’t weighed down with his armor, but the man was in good training, and even just his muscle mass was enough to squash Merlin flat.

“Get off, you great lout!” Merlin said through huffs and giggles as he struggled to free his wrists.

“How dare you call your king such a thing! I’ll have you in the stocks!” Arthur was laughing, his threats only in fun.

“You wouldn’t dare. Not on my day _off!_ ” Almost by reflex, Merlin added a bit of magical intention to the last thrust of his arm against Arthur’s weight, and it toppled them over onto their sides. Merlin pressed his advantage, taking Arthur by surprise, and rolled him onto his back. Then, sitting on top of him, Merlin crowed, “So there!”

Arthur grunted in surprise, then chuckled at his change of fortune. “Well... Now what? Now that you have me at your mercy.”

“Nothing?” Merlin said uncertainly as he tried to pull away and stand. But Arthur still had firm hold of his wrists and wasn’t letting go. “Come on, Arthur. You know I can’t best you in a fight.”

“Who said anything about fighting?” He slowly stretched his arms out, away from his torso, and with every inch, Merlin’s upper body was brought closer to his own.

There was no way to wriggle out of his grasp, and Merlin started to panic over how close their faces were getting. Those perfect lips were excruciatingly within reach, and more tempting with every passing moment. “All _right,_ Arthur. You’ve made your point. I’m not as strong as you; I admit it. Let go.”

Arthur’s arms stopped inching outward and he frowned up at Merlin. “I didn’t have a point. At least, not that one.” His grasp loosened, though he didn’t break contact with Merlin. “But I won’t hold you against your will.”

The moment freedom was given, Merlin didn’t want it. But now he’d feel like an idiot if he didn’t take it. He freed his wrists enough to sit upright, but didn’t get off of Arthur. “Are you sure I’m not the one holding you?”

Arthur huffed derisively. “I could get out from under you with very little effort, believe me.” Then slowly, almost tentatively, he moved his hands to rest on Merlin’s knees. The touch was more welcome than Merlin was ready to admit. “ _If_ I wanted to expend energy on something so trivial.”

With a chuckle in his voice, Merlin taunted, “You’d rather I crushed your stomach?”

“You don’t weigh enough for me to notice.” Arthur’s strong hands lightly squeezed Merlin’s knees, just enough to tickle.

Merlin stifled a yelp and tried to push Arthur’s hands off. Instead, their fingers tangled together in a way that could only have been deliberate, and Arthur sighed contentedly as he rested their interlocked hands on his chest. Merlin lost his breath.

“What... What do you want, then? For me to sit here on top of you and block your view of the clouds?” Their positions were making Merlin more nervous the longer they stayed in them. Nervous because at some point Arthur was going to notice how much Merlin _liked_ this level of closeness.

“Who needs a view of the clouds? You’ll do just fine,” Arthur said as casually as if Merlin were a pillow for his feet. Then he frowned, adding, “Unless you want to get up. You don’t have to cater to my whims on your day off, after all.”

A thought struck Merlin, and he couldn’t help testing it. “If I _were_ to cater to your whims, what would they be, exactly? Just so I know what I have the luxury of saying no to today.”

Arthur looked pensive as he let go of Merlin's fingers and slid his hands along Merlin’s bent legs to rest them on his calves. Merlin stayed perfectly still until Arthur stopped moving, then settled himself more comfortably, being sure not to discourage Arthur’s touch.

“I suppose... This. Lying on the grass with you, doing nothing but what felt good.” He increased the pressure of his hands against Merlin’s calves slightly, adding, “This feels good, right?” Merlin nodded with a soft smile. “You’d tell me otherwise, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Arthur. Despite your oft-stated preference, I do in fact have a tongue in my head. And I know how to use it.”

One of Arthur’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Prove it.”

Merlin fairly gasped at his gaffe — he hadn’t meant the double entendre, and he couldn’t tell if Arthur was calling his bluff because he was offended or... something else. He felt his face flush hot and he stammered like an idiot. “I just meant, I’d speak up if... Not that I couldn’t, or _wouldn’t_...” The inappropriate thoughts that jumbled into his head made him desperate to get some distance and he clambered off of Arthur, feeling like a fool. “Sorry, I...”

“No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have said that. It sounded like an order but...” Arthur sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, frustration practically shimmering off him. “ _Damn._ ”

Desperate to grab hold of something approaching normal, Merlin muttered, “I’ll start us a fire,” and scrambled to collect sticks and tinder, even though the day was beautiful and there was no need, either for cooking or for warmth.

—

Once the pine needles caught a spark and Merlin had gently blown the tinder to flame, he risked a glance at Arthur. The whole time he’d been gathering wood and preparing the fire, Arthur had been sitting on the blanket and looking off into the distance with a moody countenance, letting Merlin putter in silence, his face flushed in shame.

This day off idea had been a horrible one.

As Merlin sat back on his heels watching the small fire grow, Arthur cleared his throat. “I want to apologise, Merlin. I don’t know what I was thinking earlier.”

Merlin winced at the formality of the statement — at the fact that Arthur was even bringing it up again. “It’s fine. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m just...” _Unable to handle teasing when I feel so strongly for you._

“Allowed to say no, even if it weren’t your day off,” Arthur finished, in possibly the most surprising way possible.

It startled the question out of Merlin, “Say no to what?”

Arthur shrugged, looking down at the unnecessary fire, back at the horses — anywhere but at Merlin. “Me.”

There was a long pause as Merlin tried to work out what exactly was happening. Had Arthur actually meant for things to go where Merlin so desperately wanted them to? The last thing he’d ever meant to do was discourage Arthur, but there was that tiny detail of him being happily married, which felt at the moment like a knife in the gut. Even with Gwen’s attempt to ‘help’ in some odd way this morning, they were still treading some very unstable ground.

And as usual, when things got too close to the bone, Merlin tried to reverse course. “I say no to you plenty, don't I? Too much, perhaps.”

Arthur huffed in exasperation. “Hardly. You just do what you like. I have no idea why I allow you to...” He trailed off as if defeated, and tossed a rock into the fire. “Yes I do.”

“Well _I_ don't,” Merlin said before he could catch himself.

“Because you're much more than just a servant to me, and I...” Arthur picked up the mostly empty bottle of wine and refilled his glass, because Merlin hadn’t remembered to. “I respect you.”

“Thanks?” Merlin had very little breath to answer, but even less understanding of where to go from here — how far was safe. “Me too. I mean, of course, you’re my king, but apart from that... I think very highly of you as a _person._ A friend.”

“Friend. Yes.” Arthur stared into his goblet of wine and frowned thoughtfully. “You and Gwen, you know, are the closest things I have to friends.”

“What about your knights? You call them brothers, after all.”

“Yes, and that bond is important — sacred, even — but for you, it’s different.” Arthur glanced over, brow deeply furrowed. “I care what you think of me.”

“That’s...” Merlin caught himself before he said ‘absurd’ because it wasn’t quite. It simply had never seemed a part of Arthur’s nature to care about that sort of thing. “There’s no need to worry, Arthur. You know I care.”

“Because I employ you, and therefore you have to.” He took a deep, almost angry swig of his wine. “That’s your job. You’re meant to do everything I say, whether you have any desire to or not. If I ordered you to lick my boots clean, right now, you’d technically have to.”

“Not on my day off,” Merlin said with a cheeky smile.

“Yes, all right, not today. But otherwise...” Arthur said with a sigh. A note of frustration was clear in his voice as he continued. “And of course I know that’s a horrible thing to ask, but what about something less horrible that you still don’t want in any way? You’d do it, because that’s who you are to me, but how would I know if you _wanted_ to?”

“Arthur, what I want is to help you be the best king you can be — the one you’re destined to become.” That clearly wasn’t _all_ Merlin wanted, but it was the safest thing of the lot.

An expression of gratitude tinged with sorrow passed over Arthur’s face. Merlin’s heart ached for him. “Yes, but along the way, there are sacrifices. And I _know_ you — you don’t hesitate to make them because it’s necessary for the greater good.”

“I’m not the only one who functions that way, Arthur.” Merlin couldn’t help smiling softly as he added, “Your middle name is Greater Good.”

“Fine, all right. Laugh. But Merlin,” Arthur finally held Merlin’s gaze for a long moment and revealed the pain and uncertainty hidden in his line of questioning. “How can I be sure that dealing with _me_ as a person isn’t just one huge sacrifice?”

_Oh._

Merlin had realised early on that given their positions they could never be as close as he wanted. It had pained him greatly when he was younger, but he’d learned to accept some of it and subvert as much as he could. Until this moment, however, he’d never truly understood the distance enforced upon Arthur simply by station of his birth. It was also clear how poorly Merlin had done at making Arthur understand how much he meant to him.

He reached out to touch Arthur’s arm, gently, as if it might break. “Because I’m telling you, right now, that it’s a joy to work for you, and I...” _I love you, and any sacrifice, no matter how great, would be worth it._ “I wouldn’t be half as good a servant unless I cared for you as much as I do.”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, given you’re a shit servant to begin with...”

“Yeah, but I’m a great friend,” Merlin said with a winning smile, as he blinked away a tear.

“Yes. You are,” Arthur said, giving Merlin a soft, lopsided smile. The next moment he was all business. “Which is why, as a friend, I’ll never ask you to do something you don’t expressly want to do.”

“Great,” Merlin said, hoping to capitalise on Arthur’s smile and bring levity to the moment. “No more shining your armor.”

“Not what I meant,” Arthur said as he rolled his eyes. He handed off his goblet to reach for some bread and cheese.

Merlin almost took a sip from the cup, but thought better of the familiarity of the gesture. He took a moment to set it down carefully, and then quietly asked, “What _did_ you mean, then?”

“Hm?” Arthur turned, his face blank, one hand full of bread and cheese, the other holding a cluster of grapes, and offered both to Merlin.

He shook his head with a smile of thanks, then watched Arthur take a bite of each before clarifying. “About what you’d have me do.”

Arthur’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline as he finished chewing and swallowed. “Nothing. I just meant generally.”

 _Utter bollocks._ Arthur wasn’t any better at lying than Merlin was, and once on the scent of a fib, it was hard to let go. “No, you didn’t. You had something in mind. Tell me.”

‘No, because now you’ll just say no to spite me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know what I would ask.” Arthur tried to sound foreboding and serious, but he only managed to incite Merlin to playfulness.

“You could ask me — as a friend — to do anything, and I’d do it.” Merlin threw his arms wide to show he meant it, but Arthur only rolled his eyes again.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do. Really, I do.” Merlin was feeling a little giddy at how close he’d got to professing his love, and wanted to show the extravagance of his feeling, even if he couldn’t bring himself to speak the whole truth. “Tell me to go to the far reaches of the kingdom simply to gather you a posey, and I’ll do it.”

Arthur laughed and threw a grape at Merlin.

“Tell me you need me to fend off an entire army of Saxons while you take a nap, and I’ll do it.”

Arthur’s chuckle was full of warmth and amusement as he reached for one of Merlin’s outstretched hands. “Merlin, I...”

“Tell me to call down lightning from the sky to vanquish your enemies, and, on my life, I’ll—”

“ _Merlin._ Don’t be daft,” Arthur chided as he grabbed hold of Merlin’s wrist and tugged him close. “I only wanted you to kiss me.”

No sooner had the words dropped from Arthur’s lips than both of them froze. The pleasant forest scene around them faded away — birdsong, sunlight, the scent of grass, of burning wood, everything — and all Merlin could focus on was the thump of his pulse in his throat and ears, the grip of Arthur’s warm, strong hand around his wrist.

And the lush, red, inviting lips directly in front of him.

Merlin let out a breath — faint nervous laughter — and tried to look away. Tried to pretend what he was about to do wouldn’t change his life forever. But before he could lean in and fulfill not only his friend’s request, but his own heart’s desire, Arthur let go his hand and turned away.

“Never mind, I didn’t—”

The force of Merlin’s lips impacting Arthur’s cheek was hard enough to knock him off balance. Arthur flailed for a moment before he clutched Merlin’s shoulders for support. And, it seemed, to push him an arm’s length away. He gave Merlin a stern look, and Merlin bent his head, cowed into silence, awaiting a reprimand.

“Not like that, you fool.” Arthur pressed one hand to Merlin’s chin and raised it until their eyes met. “Like this.”

He leaned in slowly, carefully, his eyes on Merlin’s mouth, his own lips slightly parted. He tilted his head just enough for Merlin to be entranced by his jawline, and brought their faces to within a half inch of each other. Then, a pause as their breaths mingled, which had Merlin’s heart banging hard and a throb of heat coursing through his gut to his loins.

As if spellbound, Merlin was drawn forward to cover that last tiny — gaping — distance and press his mouth to Arthur’s.

The kiss was hot and sweet and utterly breathtaking. Arthur’s lips were softer than Merlin had expected — in fact everything about Arthur’s mouth was more giving and gentle than seemed possible, after all the hardness that sprung from it daily.

Without thinking, Merlin pressed his hand to Arthur’s jaw and neck, and received a low, contented hum in response that vibrated through his fingertips.

_Oh. Oh dear..._

Too much? Quite possibly, but Merlin was not a strong enough person to stop something so pleasurable when it was in full swing. And Arthur had never been taught to rein in his desires for any reason — that’s what comes of being born to be king.

So very quickly, the kiss became heated and forceful — needy, passionate. Everything about Arthur was a little bit dizzying — his sharp taste and earthy smell, the surprising smoothness of his skin under Merlin’s hand, and the almost alarming strength with which he held Merlin in his arms.

It didn’t take long for Merlin to be out of his depth, needing to back off slightly and catch his breath. He inhaled raggedly as he pressed his forehead to Arthur’s and licked his lips. “Cheesy.”

“What?” Arthur seemed to need a few deep breaths as well before opening his eyes and frowning at Merlin. “Did you just say—”

“Oh, and oat bready. You taste like lunch.” Merlin grinned, but Arthur quirked up one eyebrow, suspicious. Merlin tried and failed to suppress a giggle. “You’re delicious. Kiss me again.”

“Perhaps you should eat something first, instead of trying to luncheon vicariously through me,” Arthur said archly.

“You don’t mean that. We have all afternoon to eat.” Merlin pressed forward for another taste, but Arthur backed off.

“I can think of much better things we could spend that time doing,” Arthur said with a smirk. Merlin’s gut twisted with desire, and his face must have done something odd because Arthur amended his statement. “Or, we could do whatever you want...”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Merlin said with a hint of teasing in his voice. He hoped it masked the nerves he felt over whatever ideas Arthur might have in this situation. Being vastly underprepared to please the king suddenly felt like a character flaw. “I’m not very well-versed in... you know...”

“I’m not expecting anything,” Arthur was quick to assert. “I’m still shocked you let _this_ happen.”

Merlin just grinned at him, saying, “My sentiments exactly.”

“Really?” Arthur was frowning again. Merlin wanted to rub the creases out of his brow — or kiss them away.

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin said fondly as he brushed his fingertips down the front of Arthur’s soft, blousy shirt. “Despite my better judgment, I’ve wanted that to happen for a very long time.”

“How long?” Arthur breathed against his ear, making him shiver in delight. “Never as long as I have...”

“Are we competing now?” Merlin teased. “Ever since you treated me like a human instead of a servant.” Arthur grunted in approval, and Merlin couldn't help but take the piss a little longer. “Actually, that’s not true, because anyone with eyes can see how kissable your lips are, and it took you forever to see me as more than just some servant.”

“Untrue! I noticed your worth right off!” Arthur nipped at Merlin’s ear, sending a jolt of arousal through him. “Well, I noticed your beauty, and your sweet little arse...”

“Aha! So it’s not kissing you’ve had in mind all this time, is it, _sire?_ ” Merlin pressed his fingertip to Arthur’s chest and pushed him backwards until they were smirking at each other.

Arthur’s eyes showed hunger as they ranged over Merlin’s body, making his stomach flip. “Well, not exclusively, no.” He looked back up at Merlin’s face with a contrite expression. “Is that too forward? Just because I’m king doesn’t mean you have to give me whatever I—”

“I _know_ Arthur. You’ve made that abundantly clear. Besides, you know me. When have I ever given you everything you wanted?”

Snorting in amusement, Arthur leaned in and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s. Then, with his hot breath ghosting Merlin’s lips, he murmured, “Just now.”

Merlin paused for a second, afraid to breathe. Then he pulled back to look into Arthur’s eyes. “But you just said you wanted my arse.”

“I said I _noticed_ your arse,” Arthur corrected with mock sternness. He pulled Merlin closer, so he was practically sitting on Arthur’s lap. “I’d be perfectly happy to just sit here with you like this, if that was what you wanted.”

Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck, Merlin sighed contentedly and settled more comfortably on Arthur’s lap. “You’re really happy like this?”

“Yes. Still shocked, but definitely happy,” Arthur said with a sideways grin. "And you really want this? Truthfully?"

"Yes, absolutely."

Arthur beamed at him like the most brilliant sunshine, like he'd just been given the gift he'd most wanted in the world. The happiness radiated off of him, and it made Merlin giddy just to see it.

This was everything Merlin had ever wanted, after all. Satisfied, he smiled back and leaned in to hug Arthur close. “Who would have thought? Apart from Gwen, that is...”

Arthur went completely still, the hand that was smoothing down Merlin’s side stopping abruptly. Leaning back until he could see Merlin’s face, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “Merlin, Gwen didn’t put you up to this, did she?”

“What?” Shocked at the thought, Merlin backed off, ready to climb out of Arthur’s lap until Arthur grabbed hold of his hips to keep him in place. “No! She sort of mentioned something about me making you happy, but I never thought...”

“Oh, no. She promised she’d keep mum,” Arthur said with a hint of despair as he covered his eyes with his free hand. “I should never have spoken to her about it.”

“She knew anyway. She could read me like a book,” Merlin shrugged, then kissed the back of Arthur’s bare wrist, simply because it was there.

Arthur moved his hand so he could look at Merlin, his smile soft and fond. “Of course she could. Why couldn’t I?”

Smiling, Merlin shrugged again. It was a good thing he could at least keep some things secret from some people, or he wouldn’t still be alive. “Dunno. But what did you say to her, anyway?”

“Nothing much, she basically knew it all already. And then she had the gall to say I was being a fool, pining — _ahem_ — I mean, wanting you and yet believing I couldn’t have you.”

Merlin couldn’t help but smirk at Arthur’s slip-up. Pining was definitely the word for what _he’d_ been doing all this time where Arthur was concerned, but there was no reason the king needed to know that. His ego was puffed up like a peacock already. “Right. Well, she made it clear to me there was no prohibition on her part to this sort of thing happening, which I still don’t understand since she’s your _wife,_ but...”

“Yes, well, my Gwen is a most special lady. She understands much — more than I ever will — about human nature. I don’t know how she learned it all, being nothing more than a servant her whole life.”

“Aha,” Merlin said with a laugh. “ _That_ is exactly why she knows so much. You learn a lot when you’re allowed into private spaces and then ignored. People reveal their true selves when they think they’re alone, even when they aren’t quite.”

Arthur frowned aggressively. “ _I_ don’t do that.”

“My darling lord, of course you do.” Merlin was grinning too hard to kiss Arthur’s cheek, so he just pressed his taut lips against the flushed skin and chuckled. “You’re a lucky man that Gwen and I forgive you your idiocies even though we are the ones most exposed to them.”

“Well, _that’s_ all right. You’re the only two I trust with myself anyway.” Arthur kissed Merlin’s temple absently and ran his hand over Merlin’s hair.

Almost purring at the touch, Merlin said, “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

“Yes, of course. Yes, my dear.” Arthur was staring into the dying fire, distracted.

“What is it, Arthur?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. I just _hate_ when she’s right about something I didn’t see.”

“But,” Merlin said lightly, almost teasingly, his fingers brushing Arthur’s cheekbone and jawline, “Isn’t that why she’s your queen? Because of how wise and good and smart she is?”

“No,” Arthur said, decisively. He looked directly into Merlin’s eyes and said, “She’s my queen because I love her. I just happen to have very good taste in partners, and I picked the wisest and smartest woman to love.”

Merlin could feel his face heating up, wondering if Arthur used the word ‘partners’ as an implied compliment.

Of course then Arthur ruined it by adding with a laugh, “You, on the other hand, are the laziest servant I’ve ever had.”

“It’s my day _off!_ ” Merlin said, smacking Arthur’s shoulder lightly and getting up off his lap to kick the fire out.

“I was _joking!_ Merlin, come on.” Arthur struggled to his feet before the ashes and dust from the fire covered him. “I picked the most loyal, adorable servant to—”

He’d tried to grab Merlin around the waist, supposedly to hug him from behind, but Merlin wasn’t having it. He was too pent up with all the afternoon’s emotions, and still a bit skittish about what exactly they were meant to be doing together, so he hopped away from Arthur, saying, “We should be finishing lunch, you know. I can’t have you fainting on me later.”

Arthur stopped still and one eyebrow kicked up so high Merlin lost track of it in the blond fringe. “May I do _other_ things on you later, if I eat my food like a good king?”

Merlin lost his breath, and couldn’t even begin to know where to look for it. On his boots, apparently, because that’s where his gaze locked as he stammered through a response. “Possibly. I told you I don’t really know what...”

“Come eat, Merlin.” Arthur reached his hand out for Merlin to take. “We don’t have to figure everything out this afternoon. Just knowing you’re okay with this is enough.” He brought Merlin’s hand to his mouth and actually kissed the knuckles.

Merlin was dumbfounded. It was the sweetest thing Arthur had ever done for him, and his insides all sort of melted. Arthur led him back to the the blanket and sat him down, then filled a plate of food for him. The doting, sincere smile he gave Merlin when handing it over was devastating — the type of smile that held a promise of better things yet to come.

But what could be better than this?

 _I’m in so much more danger now than ever,_ Merlin realised, as he popped a grape into his mouth and bit down on it. He wasn’t even sure he’d make it through the afternoon, let alone have any idea how to carry forward, now that everything was new.

Well, he’d been flying blind his whole life with Arthur up until this point, why change his modus operandi now, when everything was finally how he’d always wanted?

 


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This,” Merlin echoed, unsure of what exactly that entailed. “Did you tell Gwen about this? About what happened today?”
> 
> Arthur shrugged, his arms still around Merlin. “She asked, and since she and I don’t keep secrets from one another...”
> 
> Nodding, Merlin took a quick breath and shut his eyes to say, “So are you and I a secret to everyone else?”
> 
> There was a moment of silence in which everything stopped for Merlin, including his breathing. Then Arthur said, in a cautious tone of voice, “I was thinking we weren’t quite ready to make it known...” and when Merlin sighed, he added, “Why, have you told anyone?”
> 
> “Gaius will be able to figure it out.” If he hasn’t done so already.
> 
> “No one else?”
> 
> “I don’t talk to anyone else,” Merlin said as he hugged Arthur’s arms more tightly around himself.

“I heard your afternoon went swimmingly,” Gwen said, sailing into Arthur’s chambers and pulling off her riding gloves as she came right up to Merlin.

He’d been dreamily staring into Arthur’s wardrobe, supposedly looking for clothes to dress him in for dinner, but his mind was lingering on touches of skin to skin, clothes askew, the dapple of sun on soft hair, and the shiver of a shadow or a finger on a sensitive area — the sighs of satisfaction born from the sweetest ache imaginable.

The queen’s entrance abruptly pulled him into the present, reminding him that Arthur’s meeting with Sir Leon would be over shortly and he’d need Merlin to carry out his servantly duties in just a few minutes.

“Ah, yes. It was pleasant. Relaxing,” he stammered, his already flushed cheeks reddening even further.

“Honestly, you’re a horrible liar, Merlin,” she chided, tapping him lightly on the arm with her gloves. Her eyebrow hopped up and her voice went suggestive as she said, “I just hope you enjoyed yourself as much as your king did.”

_Oh dear._ Did it get more awkward than this? How could Merlin talk about what had happened with _the queen_ of all people? He looked down at his boots, saying, “Yes, actually. Thank you, milady.”

“Don’t, Merlin. Come off it. We’re friends, aren’t we? And we’re all adults.” She leaned in to catch Merlin’s eye and add, “I hope I’ve not embarrassed you.”

He shook his head but she saw through that too.

“But this is a good thing, isn’t it? Aren’t you happy about it?”

Merlin sighed. “Of course I am. It was glorious. He wants me, and I feel...” Biting his lip, Merlin tried and failed to put words to the feelings coursing through him. So many at once, and strong as a river’s swift current. He ended up shaking his head in defeat.

“Good,” Gwen said, decisively. “As it should be.”

“How can you say that? You’re his queen — his wife. To be happy that he is unfaithful—”

“But he’s not, Merlin. I’ve given my blessing. Our relationship shall not suffer because of this. I can only foresee it being stronger.”

“But how can you—” He broke off and shook his head again.

“Because I love him. And he needs certain things to be truly happy. I am one of those things, and I rejoice every day for that. But you are another, and now we are that much closer to—”

“But—” The moment the word was out of his mouth, Merlin bit down on it, because suddenly everything clicked. He had been so very happy for Arthur — and Gwen — when they got married, so it could only be the same sort of feeling which made Gwen happy now. “Right. He deserves every bit of happiness he can find.”

She nodded solemnly. “Both you and I know his senses of duty, justice, and honor are too strong for him to end up living very long, so I want him to seize with both hands whatever joy there is for him in this life, while he can.”

Merlin took a deep breath. “And you really think I’m part of finding that joy?”

“Yes.” She spoke with such determination, it was hard to doubt.

But doubt he still did. Pleadingly, desperate to believe, Merlin looked at his friend, Gwenevere, Queen of Camelot, and said, “I will do _anything_ to make him happy. You must know that. But I still don’t even know what this is, really. How to go about it.” He took both of Gwen’s hands in his own. “If Arthur truly needs something of me that I can provide — whatever it may be — I will give it to him with all my heart. But until I am certain of _what_ he needs, I can’t very well say that I’m the best person to give it to him. Even if his queen is sure of it.”

Her face fell, and she looked at him strangely. It was painfully disheartening.

He slumped back against a nearby pillar and rubbed his palms on his hose, adding, “Honestly, I have no idea how to please him. I made a fool of myself today, so odds are very slim I’d be a good choice.”

“There is no choosing. How has he not made this clear?” She turned to look accusingly at the door, an exasperated sigh on her lips. “It’s _you,_ Merlin, and no one else.”

“Apart from you,” he added quickly.

She stepped toward him with a wry smile, hand outstretched. “Yes. Apart from me. But listen, this isn’t about doing your duty for a philandering king. I’m not simply pandering to certain tastes. If I thought all he needed was a regular buggering I’d ask Percival or Gwaine. Or both, if they are the jealous type.”

One bright, sharp laugh escaped Merlin’s throat at that. He’d _wondered_ about those two, but never had the courage to ask, and here Gwen was acting as though it was common knowledge. _Well?_ Maybe it was. Everything else seemed obvious, at least to her...

“How long have you known about this?”

“What? That you were besotted with the king and he held a soft spot a mile wide for you as well?” Gwen’s arched eyebrow was the cheekiest thing Merlin had seen in some time. “Years. It was one of the reasons I never thought Arthur was serious about me.”

“You’re joking! But it was so obvious that he fancied you. It takes a lot for him to trust someone, but once he does, he’s the most loyal—”

“I know. Like a puppy, he is. So earnest.”

“So enthusiastic. Especially with his kisses.”

She giggled, her eyes shining at Merlin, the two of them sharing the sort of moment a couple of servants could never have dreamed they’d encounter. And yet, here they were.

With an impetuous whoop of laughter, he caught her up in his arms and twirled her around.

“ _Merlin!_ ” she cried, but with utter delight. “Put me down.” He did as he was told, beaming at her like a great fool. She cupped his cheek in her hand. “You are a darling. I’m so very happy for you. If you want any advice, believe me, I’d be happy to—”

Merlin’s lost his smile as he contemplated talking intimate details with the queen about the king. “No, I couldn’t.”

“Oh, _please,_ Merlin. I’ve been dying for someone to share things with. I know it’ll be very different for each of us, but there are some things we can agree on, I’m sure.”

“I’m not on board for plotting against him in any way, because you know if we get found out, _I’m_ the one who will suffer.”

“I can’t _believe_ you’d even think that!” Gwen said with a twinkle in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. She absolutely was thinking that, and now the idea was more tempting to Merlin than it ever should have been.

“Well, shit. Maybe a little bit,” he conceded. “But not until I know what I’m about.”

“Take your time, love. Honestly, I could do with a few nights of uninterrupted sleep.” Gwen’s smile was so sly Merlin was almost afraid of it.

“Is he that ravenous?”

“Not always, but recently, yes. It comes and goes. If you wear him out during the day, he’s more likely to sleep like a log.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, for both of our sakes.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek before heading for the door. “Marvelous. I must go dress for dinner.” She stopped halfway there and turned back to add, “I’m so happy, Merlin. For all of us.”

Merlin just grinned at her, his cheeks and ears flushing hot with an embarrassing amount of joy, before remembering that he’d likely been keeping Arthur waiting to gush with Gwen.

Turning quickly to the wardrobe, he grabbed whatever clothes would do and tossed them onto the bed. _The bed._ What would _that_ feel like, he wondered.

He shook his head, trying to keep it on task, which was now an increasingly difficult venture.

What _was_ his life?

—

“Gaius...” After dinner, Merlin entered the workshop with a half-formed question on his lips, but saw his mentor was concentrating deeply on some reaction in one of his decanters. Better to wait for his attention to shift naturally than to pull him away at the wrong instant and have his day’s work ruined. Merlin had learned that the hard way.

“Hmm...?” Gaius’ voice preceded his gaze, but soon Merlin had both directed at him. “What is it, Merlin?”

“Has a king of Camelot ever taken a consort without marrying them?” That wasn’t quite the question he had planned on asking, but there it was.

“Well, yes.” Somehow Gaius didn’t seemed fazed by the question at all, which possibly boded ill. “But the only way to do it officially is to marry. Even Aurelius, who was known to have a mistress for most of his reign but never an official companion, made her his wife on his deathbed so that she could carry on after he died. Unofficially, however...”

Merlin knew that look. It was the sort of thing he desperately tried to avoid — when Gaius had a hold on a corner of the truth and wasn’t willing to divulge more information until Merlin admitted his motives.

_Not this time._ He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Merlin waited until Gaius sighed and turned back to this experiment, then found the nerve to ask, “Have any of the unofficial consorts been...” Merlin picked up a vial of jewelweed juice and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Men?”

Gaius looked over at Merlin, his face blank of feeling, but his eyes penetrating, and all too perceptive. “One, that I know of. Uther’s father didn’t marry until he was advanced in years, and then it was said he only did so to produce an heir. For most of his reign, his chief advisor’s chambers were next to his own, with a communicating door between them. There was much private speculation about their relationship but nothing spoken aloud.”

“Why not?” Merlin picked at the label of the vial in his pocket, trying not to feel like he might fly apart any moment. “Is it wrong?”

“No, not wrong.” Gaius’ voice held enough authority to help Merlin’s breath ease in his chest. “The king can do what he likes in private. The trick is _keeping_ things private. As I said, speculation is rife in any king’s court, and when rumors spread to the general populace, things can get ugly.”

“Did Uther’s father suffer from rumors about him?”

“Yes and no. He wasn’t a particularly good king, for reasons that had nothing to do with his relationship with his advisor, whatever it may have been. But, rightly or wrongly, people resented what sway the man had, and spoke ill of him behind his back. It got so bad that there was a cadre of nobles who threatened to depose the king if he didn’t renounce his chief advisor and sentence him to death.”

“No! That’s horrible!” Merlin’s jaw dropped in astonishment and righteous anger. A cold thread of fear wound itself around his heart and tugged sharply.

“Yes. It was. The king chose to be swayed, rather than uncrowned, but he smuggled his advisor out of the citadel — out of Camelot, they say — the night before the beheading. The man was never heard from again, and the king slowly diminished in strength — and magnanimity — until he was a hard, cruel, shell of a man.”

“And _he_ sired Uther? That explains a lot.”

“Perhaps it does. And I’m sure Arthur knows this story,” Gaius said placidly, apropos of nothing.

“But Arthur’s nobles love him. And his court isn’t petty like that—” Merlin stopped, suddenly aware how unwise it was to make such parallels.  

“I never said otherwise,” Gaius said as he turned once again to his decanter, vials, and bottles. “Was there anything else you needed, besides that insect bite remedy in your pocket?”

Trying not to look caught out, Merlin replied, “Ah, no. Thanks. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.” He nodded at Gaius, then headed for the door.

“Merlin,” Gaius called after him just as his hand reached the handle. He paused to listen. “The knights of Camelot love and respect their king, but every one of them would die to protect _you_ , just as readily as him.”

Merlin frowned over his shoulder at his mentor, feeling as though every conversation he had today was meant to confound him.

“All I’m saying is there’s no need to worry. Go, run along. I have a list of things for you to do tomorrow to catch up.”

Merlin’s answering groan could be heard all the way down the hall.

—

Merlin waited until the worst possible moment to bring things up with Arthur. The evening’s camaraderie and work — so many reports to go through since they’d taken the afternoon off — were finally behind them, and it was almost time for bed. This was the hour when everything was quiet and slow, when they could relax — or at least Arthur could, while Merlin mended or shined something that needed it.

But tonight, Arthur had asked for a bath, which meant there was the work of heating the water and readying the bath, but then usually there followed the joy of sitting with him while he lazed languidly in the heat and chatted with Merlin, gossiping about his knights or the courtiers to keep them both amused.

Except this time when the point came where the bath was just right, and Arthur was to undress to step into it, there was a pause. Merlin looked awkwardly at Arthur, then away. Was this too intimate now? Or maybe not intimate enough? He had no clue. Gesturing vaguely toward the door, he offered, “I can leave if you—”

“No, please. Don’t go.” Arthur reached out, then pulled his hand back and started to untie the neck of his padded shirt, the armour discarded once he’d entered his chambers. “Join me, if you like.”

Merlin gawped at him. “In the bath?”

“Yes, why not? Wouldn’t it feel good?” Arthur continued to take off his own clothes, which was confusing enough as it was.

“Yes? I mean, I assume so.”

“Then go on,” Arthur waved rather negligently at Merlin’s clothes as if ordering them out of his sight.

“Right. Erm, okay,” Merlin said unsteadily, as he untied his neck scarf and kicked off his shoes.

When they were both down to only their hose, there was another pause as Merlin’s nerve failed him. He turned away to find another towel and whisper a quick spell to keep the water hot so he wouldn’t have to get out once he was in. Conveniently or no, Arthur finished undressing and chose that moment to stepped noisily into the tub. He was seated and waiting by the time Merlin turned back.

Of course, that meant it was Merlin’s turn, and in full view of his king.

“I’ll look away if you’d rather,” Arthur said quietly.

“No, sire. It’s all right.” Merlin’s cheeks caught fire as he dropped his hose to the floor and stepped out of them, but when he looked at Arthur’s face, the warmth that filled his belly eclipsed all embarrassment.

Arthur was wide-eyed, like a child staring at a sweet he’d been promised — there was hunger, but also utter delight, and very possibly gratitude in his eyes. The sight made Merlin’s eyes prick and sting, and he swallowed hard as he stepped up to the bathing tub. “All right?”

“More than,” Arthur said in an awed voice. “You are so beautiful, Merlin.”

“I’m also very dirty. Are you sure you want me ruining your nice bath?”

“You’ll make it a hundred times better, your dirt notwithstanding. Come,” he said, hand outstretched as it had been before, at lunch.

Merlin obeyed his king and stepped carefully into the bath, easing himself into the hot water, trying not to spill any. He’d filled it for one person, after all.

Arthur for his part didn’t care about making a mess and sloshed around, wrapping his warm arms around Merlin and pulling him down until they were mostly covered by water, their shoulders and knees just peeking out above the surface. “There. Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sire,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes and grinning at the cosiness of their situation. The tub wasn’t quite big enough for two grown men, so they were somewhat entwined in order to fit.

“Don’t ‘sire’ me tonight, please. Not when we’re like this.” Arthur’s lips were practically _in_ Merlin’s ear, and when he kissed the lobe, Merlin sighed at how deliciously it tickled.

“This,” Merlin echoed, unsure of what exactly that entailed. “Did you tell Gwen about this? About what happened today?”

Arthur shrugged, his arms still around Merlin. “She asked, and since she and I don’t keep secrets from one another...”

Nodding, Merlin took a quick breath and shut his eyes to say, “So are you and I a secret to everyone else?”

There was a moment of silence in which everything stopped for Merlin, including his breathing. Then Arthur said, in a cautious tone of voice, “I was thinking we weren’t quite ready to make it known...” and when Merlin sighed, he added, “Why, have you told anyone?”

“Gaius will be able to figure it out.” _If he hasn’t done so already._

“No one else?”

“I don’t talk to anyone else,” Merlin said as he hugged Arthur’s arms more tightly around himself.

“Apart from Gwen,” Arthur said, his lips brushing against Merlin’s neck. The sensation tickled.

Merlin raised his shoulder to his ear in defense. “Well, yes. But she already knows.”

“Is there someone you want to tell?” Arthur asked, his voice holding a hint of politeness which put Merlin on his guard.

“No? I just wondered...” He sighed and tried again. “I didn’t know if it was allowed, or if you thought better not to mention...”

“I’m the king. I can do what I want.” Arthur hugged Merlin tight and said, “And I want you.”

Warmth spread through Merlin’s whole body, and not simply because of the hot water. “But we shouldn’t let on.”

“I don’t plan on making an announcement throughout the kingdom, no.” Arthur’s jest fell flat as Merlin just looked at him, waiting for an answer. He sighed, but continued, “That’s not to say you will be my little secret. Everyone already knows how much esteem I have for you. That won’t change, clearly.”

“I’m not trying to gain more importance in the court, or even with the knights, or anything,” Merlin was quick to assure Arthur. “I just don’t know how this works, and whether I need to...”

“Hide what we are to each other?” Arthur finished with a cynical tone.

“No? Yes. I don’t know.” Merlin turned to look Arthur in the eye, even as he could feel himself shaking with nerves. “I don’t even know what we are to each other.”

“Something special.” Arthur touched Merlin’s chin, his eyes focusing on Merlin’s mouth. “Some might say I was a greedy bastard, wanting to have my cake and eat it too, but I don’t bloody well care.” He leaned in and pressed the lightest of kisses to Merlin’s lips — something that shouldn’t have had the power to weaken Merlin as much as it did.

He continued, letting his hand slide down Merlin’s jaw and neck to his shoulders, the stark heat of his wet palm causing a shiver to wrack Merlin’s frame. “I only have one life, and I plan on making the most of it. If fate has blessed me with two great loves, I will not deny one for the sake of the other. But that means I will not hold one in greater esteem than the other, so I hope you can live with that.”

“I, what?” Merlin’s brain was caught on the word ‘loves’, and his body was inconveniently reacting to the feeling of Arthur’s hand on his chest, stroking gently. “Live with... _Love?_ Did you say love?”

Arthur shifted against him angling his head for a more direct line of sight. “Yes, Merlin. Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

Not having ever imagined what it would be like if he got his heart’s wish, Merlin was completely out of his dept. “I dunno. I guess?”

The frown that took over Arthur’s face wasn’t just confused, it was lost. “Have I mistaken...?” He pulled away, his voice almost gone in distress. “Oh God. I’m so sorry, Merlin. I thought you—”

“No, you thought right.” Merlin reached out to keep Arthur close to him, then shook his head as if waking from a dream. Except _this_ was what he’d always dreamed of, and it was, as far as he could tell, very real. “ _I’m_ sorry. I’m not making sense. Go on with what you were saying.”

Nonplussed, Arthur blinked for a few moments before he was able to go on. “I guess... I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want to hear it, but...”

“I do.” Merlin stroked Arthur’s arm gently then leaned slowly in to kiss the rounded edge of his shoulder. “I promise I do.” It was like gentling a horse.

Arthur took a deep breath before saying, “I just wanted to say that I love you as much as I do Gwen, so I don’t want there to be any friction around ‘favorites’ or some other foolish nonsense.” He was using his deep, kingly voice, but it had started to show the chinks in its armour by the time he’d finished speaking.

Merlin couldn’t help but smile. “You... love me.” Saying the words out loud made the bright shock of joy they produced bubble up into laughter. “Just like that, you can say it.”

He scrabbled in the tub to turn around and fully face Arthur, once again landing almost completely in his lap. “Do you mean it? Really?”

Drawing himself up to a proud, kingly posture wasn’t easy in a bathtub, but Arthur managed to cut an impressive figure nonetheless. “I don’t tell lies for personal gain, Merlin. Besides, why would I admit something like that if it weren’t true?”

He had a point, Merlin conceded, though it still felt too good to be true. “I dunno. Maybe some evil sorcerer has enchanted you again. Most of your love affairs are caused that way after all,” he couldn’t help but tease.

Arthur scoffed, a wry smile pricking at the corner of his mouth. “If that were so, he would have been playing the long game. I told you, I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

It felt unbelievably good to hear such a thing, but it left Merlin at a complete loss for words. Arthur shrugged, and into the silence left by Merlin’s shock, he added, “I didn’t know that’s what it was for ages, of course. Who knew irritation and jealousy and unreasonable demands were the heralds of deep feelings such as these?”

Merlin had to wipe his face with a wet hand so he could regain focus enough to express something other than disbelief. “I never expected...” He shook his head and chuckled, trying to find a way of putting his feelings to words. “I’d do anything for you, Arthur.”

“But...?” He sounded as if he were teasing, but his eyebrows gave him away — furrowed always meant worried.

“Nothing. That’s the truth. You could ask anything of me, and I’d give it.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin beat him to it. “And I mean that as a show of my devotion to _you,_ not my duty to the crown.”

“Devotion, eh?” A skeptical eyebrow raised as Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s hips.

Merlin sighed and settled more comfortably on Arthur’s lap, sinking a bit deeper into the still hot water. “Yes. It’s only ever been you.”

“Not Morgana?” Arthur teased. “Not Lancelot?”

After the gut-wrenching betrayals that both of them had visited upon Arthur there was no way Merlin would concede any shred of attraction to either of them. But even so, attraction was not love, and so in this case the answer was, “No, my lord. No one holds a candle to you.”

“You flatter me,” he said, clearly enjoying it. “You use my title even as you promise it’s _me_ you... care for.”

“Love,” Merlin corrected automatically. The jolt of pleasure from actually saying it out loud brought heat to his face and neck, and a shiver up his spine.

There was a good ten second pause. Then, “Do you?” Arthur asked, his tone cautious. “You don’t have to say it only because I did...”

“No, of course I do. I simply...” Merlin felt as though nothing about this was simple. It was possible he’d never be able to convince Arthur fully of the love he bore him. It was a disheartening prospect. “I’ve kept my emotions locked up for so long, it’s a challenge to let them roam free. Silence eats away at you until it’s fairly impossible to remember what speaking your truth sounded like.” He paused to catch his breath and gather his thoughts, and Arthur cupped a hand under his jaw and pulled him in for a brief, soft kiss. “Oh. Just like that. I don’t have words to describe what that does to me, but I assure you, it’s the best sensation in the world.”

“Well, I can think of a couple more sensations you’ll enjoy, I—”

Merlin interrupted Arthur’s amused tangent by placing a finger to his lips. “Being loved by you, and being assured that my own love and desire are not just allowed but rejoiced in, _that_ is the best feeling. I’ve never had this. I never thought I would. And to have it with the man my heart selected for her own before I’d even understood how my feelings for others worked...” Merlin pressed his lips together, having lost the power of speech with the amount of emotion that welled up in him.

Arthur cooed and cupped Merlin’s face in his hands. “Darling. It’s all right. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Let’s just enjoy the fact of our love and celebrate that we have found it in each other.”

Nodding slightly as Arthur kissed his temple, Merlin huffed an amused breath and added, “And thank Gwen for being our cupid.”

The sigh that erupted from Arthur seemed to deflate him utterly. “I just _hate_ when she’s right about something.”

Merlin chuckled and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck. He could get used to this sort of intimacy. “I doubt that.”

“No, true. It’s a blessing in many ways. But to have to admit that I was _wrong,_ that’s the part I dislike.” Arthur looked as though he’d eaten something rotten.

“But just think of how wonderful it is to be wrong in this case. You get to have me!” Merlin put on a bright smile and blinked innocently to make Arthur laugh.

“Yes, and that is the most wonderful thing I could imagine.” Arthur leaned in and gently kissed Merlin’s nose, and then gave Merlin a strange, almost feral look. His voice turned sultry as he said, “Do you think that I could have you tonight?”

Merlin’s breath flew from him in one swift exhale, and he struggled to find a way to answer beyond nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. Please. I would like that more than anything.”

“Good. Get yourself nice and clean, and then we can climb into bed.” Arthur kissed Merlin’s temple, then his cheekbone, then the corner of his jaw. “And I can show you some things that I think you’ll enjoy.”

A shiver of lust ran down Merlin from his nape to his bollocks. “And Gwen’s okay with this?”

“Yes, love. She insisted.” Arthur brushed Merlin’s fringe off his forehead and kissed the spot between his eyebrows. The bath was her idea, actually.”

_Kudos to Arthur for admitting it._ “Thank you, Gwen,” Merlin said softly, with a sweet smile.

Arthur laughed, delighted, which boded well for him now that he was outnumbered by his partners. But, Merlin was sure, not one of them would have it any other way.


End file.
